


The Honesty of Dreams

by 1MissMolly



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), James Bond - All Media Types
Genre: Dreams and Nightmares, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1MissMolly/pseuds/1MissMolly
Summary: James Bond's relationship with Q through dreams.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 27
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on another project and hit writer's block. I started working on this to help my writer's block. This is just a series of simple stories of how James' relationship develops through his dreams.

Dreams

The first dream Bond had about the Quartermaster was about a year after Silva and Skyfall. Bond was never one to put much significance into his dreams and rarely did he even remembered them. But this one he did. He dreamed he was sitting in the National Gallery and staring at the Turner painting.

_In the dream, Bond felt opened and abandoned. Like a wound, gapping and exposed. It hurt. Deep inside himself, he hurt. He was pulled back to London and MI6. He was pulled back like a magnet. But as soon as he arrived, he knew he was not wanted. He was an example of failure. A failure that no one wanted to acknowledge. The whipping boy for other people’s mistakes. He wondered if it would have been better to remain hidden. To remain ‘dead’. No one had known he was still alive and dead he would have been revered as the fallen hero. Alive, he was a disappointment._

_He stared at the painting and wondered if this was Tanner’s kind way of telling him he needed to quit. To disappear again and not return. Tanner was gentleman. He would give someone bad news like that as compassionately as he could. Tanner knew more of what was going on behind the scenes at MI6 and the Foreign Office than anyone else. Even more than M. Was Tanner bracing Bond for the inevitability of redundancy?_

Bond began to toss in his bed. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he continued to dream

_Bond stared at the painting when he felt the presence of someone sitting beside him. He turned expecting to see a man but instead there was a child. A young boy – maybe ten years old. He had dark wavy hair and pale features. His eyes were large and hazel behind ridiculously large glasses. Most striking was he was wearing a white lab coat that would drag on the ground if the child were standing._

_‘Always makes me a little melancholy. A grand ol’ ship being dragged off. What do you see?’ The voice was familiar and too mature for the child’s. Too deep and too posh._

_‘A bloody big ship.’ Bond responded but instantly felt guilty for cursing in front of a child._

_The small boy laughed. ‘I’m your new Quartermaster.’_

_‘You can’t be Q. You’re a kid. A child.’_

_‘I’m thirty-two years old!’ the boy shouted._

_‘It’s too dangerous for you!’_

_‘No, it would be too dangerous for you without me.’ The boy said with confidence of someone much older._

_‘This is some kind of joke.’ Bond turned away and looked back at the painting._

_‘No, Bond. I promise to be the best Quartermaster you will ever have. I will do everything to protect you. I will be there for you when everyone else leave.’_

_Bond turned back and saw a grown man where there was once the child. It was Q as he remembered him the first time they had met. The overly large coat and the smug expression._

_‘You promise?’ Bond asked._

_‘I just did.’ Q said._

Bond woke and took several quick deep breaths. His eyes moved quickly around the room to verify he was where he was supposed to be. At home, in his flat – in his bed. Alone.

Bond laid there for a few moments replaying the dream in his head. The small boy who quickly grew up to _his_ Q.

Bond sat up and reached for his watch. He glanced down at date and realized, why he had the dream. He dressed quickly and headed into Vauxhall 1. But only after he made a stop at a very special bakery on the way.

He arrived in Q Branch with a small pink box tied up with a simple white satin ribbon. His eyes quickly found the Quartermaster speaking to one his techs. Bond waited a moment for Q to acknowledge his presence before he walked through the maze of desks and projects. Q was also walking towards another tech at another bench. Q’s attention was fixed on the prototype rifle when Bond set the pink box down in front of him.

Q eyed it suspiciously. “What is that?”

“Best wishes, and happy anniversary.” Bond smiled and turned to leave.

The Quartermaster watched the agent leave while the confused tech looked at the box as if it would explode.

“Happy anniversary? What anniversary?” the tech asked.

Q looked down at the note on the box. _“It was a bloody big ship.”_ Q smiled too.

“The anniversary of when I met James Bond.”

~Q~

Bond had several reoccurring dreams. There was the one of Kincade telling him his parents had died. There was the dream about the mission with Alec Trevelyan that went completely wrong. And a recuring dream about Q. He understood why he had the other two dreams. They always happened just before a mission. It was like his mind was preparing him for the worse. But the dream about Q happened when he was at his most stressed moments. When he was out on a mission and everything had gone wrong. When he was out of ammo and had no way of contacting MI6 and there appeared to be no way out of the situation alive. When he was so exhausted of fighting he would collapse and sleep for only a few minutes. Brief moments where pure exhaustion overrode everything else and he would pass out a few minutes. Then he would dream of Q.

_The dream was always the same. It was dark. Bond couldn’t see anything around him. He was holding a gun in hand but he knew he was almost out of ammunition. He was bleeding and he was running out of time. Bond could feel a crushing weight on his chest. He knew he was going to die._

_‘I won’t let that happen.’ The voice came out of the darkness._

_Bond spun around looking for the source of the words. He would raise the gun point at the darkness._

_‘You need to know, 007, I will always be here for you.’_

_Bond twisted around and looked behind himself. No one was there. Just an empty black void. Nothingness._

_‘Believe me.’_

_‘Who are you!?’_

_‘You know who I am.’_

_Bond twisted and tried to find the shadow speaking to him. ‘No, I don’t.’ He growled._

_‘Yes. You do.’_

_Out of the corner of his eye, Bond saw movement. He quickly turned and leveled the gun at the face that appeared in the darkness. The long lanky body slowly walking up to him, unthreatening. The familiar mustard colored cardigan and the check trousers. The simple black tie always slightly askew._

_‘Q!? What are you doing here?!’_

_‘I’m here for you, 007. Now it is time to leave.’ Q’s voice was calm and controlled. Just like Bond had heard it over and over again in his ear. Q held out his hand. Bond hesitated and glanced down at it._

_‘I don’t know how to get out of here.’ Bond said quietly. Afraid what the words meant. Afraid of his own inabilities._

_‘Don’t worry. I do.’ Q wiggled his fingers, encouraging Bond to take them._

_Bond reached out and took Q’s hand. The fingers were warm and wrapped protectively around Bond’s hand._

_‘Let’s go.’ Q said as he turned and walked into the darkness. Bond was pulled along by Q. The young Quartermaster walked with confidence into the shadows. Never hesitating or unsure. He kept walking as he spoke. ‘You know if you had kept my equipment then you wouldn’t have been lost in the first place.’_

_‘It couldn’t be helped.’ Bond said as he allowed himself to be drawn along._

_‘It couldn’t be helped? How was dropping the earpiece in the wine glass compulsory? Or the laptop used as a blunt object over the villain’s head?’_

_Bond felt his anxiety lessen as the familiar banter washed over him. ‘As I said, unavoidable.’_

_Bond heard an exasperated sigh come from Q, but he also noticed a small smile on the man’s face. Bond hadn’t noticed how much younger Q looked when he smiled. It made Bond relax more._

_Then a wash of pale light was visible. A way out. An escape. Q walked straight towards it. Bond tightened his grip on the younger man’s hand and pulled Q back._

_‘Wait.’ Bond whispered._

_Q turned back and looked at Bond. ‘Don’t worry. I’m here to keep you safe.’_

_Q turned back towards the light and kept walking. Bond hesitated but followed. Q walked around the corner and into a blinding white light of day._

Bond always woke up right after that. He woke feeling more certain of his survival. And survive is what he did. It was if the dream was a reminder that although, James Bond wasn’t bullet proof, he was successful. He just needed Q to remind him of it.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bond has new dream about his Quartermaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image of Q is taken from Ben Whishaw character in Brideshead Revisited. A wonderful movie. Also happy birthday Mister Whishaw.

Bond hated having to stay in Medical, but he was recuperating after surgery to repair the damage to knee. The bed was uncomfortable and he couldn’t move around to get comfortable. His knee ached and the nurses were decreasing his pain medication. He was three days post-op and looking forward to going home.

Q and Moneypenny had been by for a short visit. Bond had been curt and dismissive. When they had asked if there was anything they could do for them, he knew it was compulsory behavior to offer and he said no. Eve smiled and blew him a kiss goodbye. But he had noticed something flash across Q’s face. Something almost appearing to be disappointment. Bond tried to not dwell on it when he final turned off the light and tried to get some sleep.

_The dream placed him someplace in the county. It was summer and the world seemed to be alive in various shades of green. It was that special time of the day when the sun was low enough in the sky to still be light without casting shadows. The world took on a rose hue as the light shifted towards night. Tall trees were in the distance – dark green against a pale sky. A privy hedge and lawn surround an elegant and grand old water fountain. It was the type of massive fountain one found at old country estates. Large enough to swim in. The aged stones were dark grey._

_He was sitting in a chair beside the fountain. A sketch pad was in his lap. Charcoal pencils were held by his left hand and his right was sketching the fountain and a young man sitting on the edge of it._

_Bond glanced up and saw Q sitting there. But it didn’t look like Q. This young man was even thinner. His hair was styled differently but was still a riot of curls. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. Instead of the bright colored cardigans, this Q wore a flannel suit of warm cream. A grey scarf was artistically wrapped around his neck and draped over his left shoulder. In his hand, Q held an ivory cigarette holder, yellowed with age and use. The cigarette perched in the holder, slowly burning down. Beside him, on the stone wall was a champaign glass made of expensive crystal. Too valuable to be used outside, let alone sitting on a stone wall were it could easily be damaged. And a fedora – the same shade of cream as Q’s suit._

_Q sat with his legs crossed and smug expression on his narrow face. He appeared in everyway the bored rich aristocrat of the 1920’s. But still there was something shy and innocent about him. Fearful and apprehensive._

_‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ Q asked._

_Bond glanced down and watched as his hand sketched Q’s face. ‘Why not?’ Not exactly sure what he was agreeing too._

_‘Mummy says it’s important to be clear about our expectation. She is very clear in what she expects from me.’_

_Bond kept sketching. He wasn’t sure why he was drawing. He couldn’t remember drawing before. Or even being interested in it._

_‘What’s your preference.’_

_Bond looked up at the dapper Q. ‘Preference?’_

_‘Male or female?’_

_‘I’m sorry?’ Bond wanted to be confused by Q’s question but he was not. It made him slightly uncomfortable._

_‘Are you gay?’_

_Bond had never placed himself into the categories of straight, bi, or gay. His preferences ran towards intelligent and beautiful. Gender wasn’t much of an issue. Or hadn’t been an issue before._

_‘Does it matter?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘You’ve followed me on missions. You know I will sleep with either.’ The words placed a weight in his stomach._

_‘There’s a difference between a mission and your own personal life, 007.’_

_‘You’re gay, correct?’_

_‘I’m not a heathen, I’m a sinner.’_

_Bond grimaced for a moment. It was an odd answer then he realized it was a quote. He thought he recognized the line from a movie or a book. Two men and a woman talking about themselves in a grand old house. Something set between the wars._

_‘I don’t consider being gay or bi a sin. Do you?’ Bond asked Q._

_‘No, but mummy does. She says anyone who indulges in their desires is a sinner.’_

_‘She must have a very unfulfilling life.’ Bond said as his attention returned to his drawing._

_‘But if you’re asking, yes, I’m gay. Is that a problem?’_

_Bond didn’t even need to think about it. ‘No.’_

_‘So you are interested in men. You enjoy men?’_

_‘I enjoy all forms of beauty.’_

_‘But only for the moment. Never for longer than absolutely necessary?’_

_Bond thought about it. He didn’t really care if the mark on a mission was male or female. It was a job and unimportant. And in his personal life, he did bed more women than men, but he wasn’t adverse to male lovers. He wondered why he made the choices he had made. What he wanted in a companion. What he wanted in a relationship. He realized the choices he made were for a short-term involvement. A quick fix to a physiological need. He had never addressed anything deeper. Anything more permanent._

_‘I like pleasure and challenges.’_

_‘I could be challenging.’ Q said._

Bond woke up when the nurse set his breakfast tray down on the bedside table. The rattling silverware and dishes jarred him awake. The sudden noise made him jerk his leg and pain throbbed through his knee. He took in a quick gasp of air and tried not to curse.

The nurse was dressed in grey scrubs. She looked tired. Her hair was slipping out its braid and she had shadows on her face. She had been his night nurse and her shift was nearly over. She picked up Bond’s chart and quickly jotted down a new note.

“The doctor said you could be discharged today. Happy?”

“Yes.” Bond gritted out as he tried to pull himself up into a sitting position without moving his knee too much.

“Is someone taking you home? A friend or a co-worker?” The nurse asked without looking up at him.

Bond hesitated before he spoke. “I’ll arrange for a car to take me home.”

“Alright. I’ll let the day nurse know.” Then the woman turned and left the room.

Bond stared down at the unappetizing food in the tray. He didn’t know why he felt suddenly very hollow and very alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The line 'I'm not a heathen. I'm a sinner.' was said by Sebastian Flyte (Ben Whishaw's character) in the movie. Mummy referres to Lady Marchmain (Emma Thompson). Sebastian and his mother have a very dysfunctional relationship resulting in his destructive behavior and alcoholism.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams don't necessarily have to make sense.

The dream started as so many other dreams had started for Bond.

_Bond was sitting in a chair and a beautiful blond woman was walking towards him. Moving slowly towards him in a fluid glide that was graceful and erotic. Her gown was pale and iridescent making her skin glow and her hair look like silk. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and he wanted her._

_She came up to him and sat down in his lap. He barely registered her weight. His hand smoothed up her bare arm and he could feel the warmth of her skin. The woman leaned forward and hovered over his lips._

_‘You should be more careful, Mister Bond.’ The woman whispered. Her painted lips barely brushing his._

_‘Careful can be boring.’ His smug voice covered the lust he was feeling._

_Her long bare arms wrapped around his shoulders as she shifted her weight on his lap. His hands moved to her back. Spread wide to both support her and hold her close._

_‘You never know when you will need those clever little gadgets from Q Branch.’ She leaned forward and kissed him. Warmly and firmly. He returned the kiss eagerly._

_He hummed and enjoyed the taste of tea and oranges on her lips._

_‘Clever little toys that he made just for you.’_

_The arms around his shoulders tightened as the person in his lap shifted again and started to kiss along Bond’s jawline and down his neck. Bond purred at the sensation of warm lips and moist kisses across his skin._

_‘If you bring them back undamaged, I could be induced to reward you.’_

_The person sitting in Bond’s lap returned to kissing the agent’s mouth. Bond opened his mouth and gladly allowed the other entrance. Then he chased the other person’s tongue back. Licking and tasting._

_The kisses became heated and needy. The bodies moved together. Rubbing and pressing as Bond realized the other person was straddling his lap. Groins close together. The delectable sensation of friction. Then he realized other person was wearing trousers. The other person was not a woman._

_Bond pulled back and looked into large hazel green eyes that were hooded with lust. Dark red lips that were swollen with kisses. Q’s pale angular face, watching him._

_Q leaned forward again and Bond let the younger man kiss him. Bond tasted the oranges and tea again. The hint of honey and something very much only Q._

_Bond’s hands moved slowly over the younger man’s back and he could feel the lean tight muscles under the cotton shirt. The protrusions of vertebrae and the flat wings of shoulder blades. Suddenly, Bond wanted to see Q’s back – see it naked and under his hand._

_Bond lust spiked and he could feel himself getting hard. He could feel Q rubbing up against him. Their bodies close together as they kissed and explored each other._

_‘Bring my tech back, Bond, and I will give you a reward. Something you’ve been wanting for awhile now.’_

_Bond leaned back to look into Q’s face._

_‘What?’_

_‘Me.’_

The dream ended abruptly. Bond woke alone in his bed. But his lust was not abated. It was hot and needy under his skin.

He glanced around wondering why he had had that dream. Why was Q so very prominent in it? His head fell back into the pillow as Bond slowly released his held breath through his teeth. He considered his future employment at MI6 if he stepped into Q Branch and started snogging his Quartermaster.

It was two weeks later when Bond was issued a mission that would take him to Moscow. He was standing in Q Branch receiving his tech from Q. His mind barely listening to Q’s explanation regarding the new camera that would be able to detect radiation as well as take photographs in various spectrums.

“And finally, 007, please do bring my tech back in one piece. One working piece.” Q said condescendingly.

“You know I always try to comply to your every wish, Q.” Bond teased back. His head was down and his eyes were fixed on the camera. It looked like any other digital camera bought any where in the world. Nondescript and plain. Perfect for Bond’s needs.

“Well if you actually do return with something working and in reasonable condition, I may have to reward you.” Q mocked back.

Bond almost dropped the camera. His head shot up and he stared at the Quartermaster. Bond saw a smug expression on the man’s face. For a brief moment, Bond wondered if Q was clairvoyant.

Q noticed a slight blush to Bond’s face.


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nod to Robert Frobisher from Cloud Atlas.

The mission had been successful. The bad guys were dead. The world had been saved. And Bond returned to England with fewer bruises and cuts than he normally returned with.

To celebrate, he had been out with a beautiful woman from the Dutch Embassy. They shared a delicious meal of rare beef and truffles. A good Merlot had made the evening mellow. And it ended in a hotel room with the obliging woman. When he was positive she was also satisfied, he left.

Bond walked back to his flat in Knightsbridge. It was late – or early depending on your point of view. The clock above the door of the local branch of Barclay told him it was half past three in the morning. He was looking forward to a hot shower and sleeping in his own bed. Alone.

Bond wasn’t needed at MI6 the following day and he was planning on sleeping late, then going for a run in the park around ten. It would be the least crowded at that time of the late morning. He might even think about going for a massage at his club. He hadn’t been there in months and wondered if the same masseuse was still employed there.

He fell asleep half an hour later. His hair still damp from the shower but his body relaxed and his mind free of any distractions or concerns.

_In the dream he entered the party. It was in a large grand ballroom with gold gilt and mirrored walls. Chandeliers lite the room with white light and rainbows of refracted light through their crystals. There was the general hum of conversations with the occasional light peal of laughter and the musical clink of glasses. It was a familiar place for Bond._

_He moved with certainty into the crowd. Like a lion sauntering across the plains of Africa. Certain of his superiority and watching for his next prey. Bond’s eyes moved slowly over the crowd, looking. Expecting. Wanting._

_Beautiful woman after beautiful woman passed in front of him. All colors and types. Most smiled knowingly at him while others maintained an aloof air to themselves. He thought that he should know some of them. That maybe in the distant past he had met them. Met them and bed them, but he couldn’t be sure. He kept looking._

_Then he noticed the music playing in the background. A single piano playing softly. Adding to the ambiance without overwhelming the conversations. Soft and lyrical music. Bond followed the music. He felt drawn to it._

_More women passed in front of him. Some reached out or spoke to him. He would politely acknowledge them but he kept looking for the piano. It was almost a compulsion to find out who was playing it._

_As the music began to get a little louder, the crowds of party goers thinned. The lights also dimmed in the ballroom. Then Bond saw the grand piano. The black mirror finish glistened in the light. Shadows seemed to encroach the instrument as a single spotlight shown down on the man playing._

_The man was dressed in a black tuxedo just like Bond. A perfectly tied bowtie seemed to accentuate the man’s long thin neck. His dark curls lightly bounced as the man swayed to the music. Bond stepped closer and watched the man’s hands. The long fingers glided over the white and black keys. They gracefully curved and shifted with each note and phrase of the song._

_‘Sit down.’ The man said without looking up at Bond._

_Bond knew that voice without having to look at the man’s face. Q._

_Bond sat down on the bench beside the Quartermaster as Q continued to play. Bond couldn’t place the song but it sounded familiar. Like something from the between the wars. Something that sounded like desperation tinted with hope. A longing for more and a promise of it._

_Bond watched Q’s hands as he played. They moved with certainty and confidence._

_‘Do you know why you are here?’ Q asked._

_‘It was a party.’ Bond answered but realized he really didn’t know why he was there._

_Q smiled. ‘No, 007. You’re here because I wanted you here.’_

_‘You wanted?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘And you always get what you want?’ Bond teased._

_‘Here I do.’ Q said with a smug expression on his face._

_‘Here? And where is here?’ Bond glanced around and saw that the two of them were alone in the vast room. The lights had dimmed and only the spotlight on the two of them was on._

_Q kept playing the piano. The sad and simple tune continued to draw Bond closer to his quartermaster._

_‘Your imagination.’ Q answered him._

_‘My imagination? Why would I imagine you here?’ Bond asked._

_‘Maybe because you want me here.’_

_There was something about this conversation that reminded him of Psych evaluations. Like any interrogation the best thing was to turn it on the interrogator._

_‘And what do you want, Q?’_

_Q’s hands stilled but hovered over the keys. He turned and looked into Bond’s face._

_‘I thought that would be obvious, 007.’ Q said as he pulled his hands into his lap._

_‘Maybe not obvious to me.’ Bond seemed to feel a sudden draw to the younger man._

_‘I want you, Bond.’ Q’s hand came up and cupped Bond’s face._

_It was warm and Bond leaned into it._

_‘Why would you . . .’ Bond started to speak. A whispered response._

_‘Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.’ Q leaned forward and kissed Bond’s mouth. A gentle press of lips. ‘I want you. And I want to be wanted by you, James.’_

_Q leaned forward again and kissed James._

Bond woke licking his lips. Wanting to taste Q there. He was disappointed.


	5. Chapter Five

It was a Cuban restaurant just off Waterloo Road with yellow walls and brightly colored posters. The air was scented with cumin and red chili. The rhythmic music of Santana was playing in the background, under the hum of conversations. Bond, dressed in a dark blue suit, was waiting expectantly in the bar for his date. Another woman.

‘Patron.’ Bond said to the barman.

The younger Hispanic male poured a shot of the tequila then slipped a small plate with a slice of lime next to the shot. Bond picked up the shot glass and held it for a moment near his lips. The hint of anise could be detected. He drank the liquor in one gulp. It was sharp and delicious. He picked up the slice of lime and bit into the citrus. The juice covered his tongue. He was going to order a second when he noticed a man walk into the bar.

Q was standing there looking around. Bond knew it was his Quartermaster even though he didn’t look like Q normally did. Q had forgone his usual hideous clothes for something far more fashionable and flattering. He was wearing a black silk shirt and black trousers. He had a perfectly knotted silver tie which accented his green eyes. His hair was still it mass of soft curls but somehow Q had tamed them into a pleasing arrangement.

Q was freshly shaven and although Bond couldn’t tell at this distance, the agent was certain that Q would be wearing a delectable cologne.

Bond moved away from the bar and walked towards Q. It was obvious that the younger man was looking for someone in the crowded bar. His eyes were constantly shifting from one face to another. It wasn’t until Bond was mere feet away from him that Q actually recognized him.

“Looking for me?” Bond asked teasingly.

“Actually no.” Q said.

“Shame.”

A slight blush warmed Q’s face. ‘I’m here on a date. Or will be when he gets here.’

“Anyone I know?”

“I doubt it.” Q glanced around again.

Just then, a tall man walked in and wrapped his arm around Q’s waist. He leaned in and kissed Q’s temple.

“Sorry I’m late. The office was swamped today. Everyone want’s my advice on the new international policies.”

Bond’s trained eyes scanned over the newcomer. He was older than Q but trying to not look it. His hair was dark brown and appeared to have been dyed. As had his eyebrows. His tan was acquired in a tanning booth and not from being outside. He wore tinted contacts and he had work done on his teeth.

“Ah, Connor, this is James. He works for Universal Exports too.” Q said quickly.

Bond instant caught the use of cover story. His guard rose.

Connor let his eyes wander up and down Bond’s body and Bond’s bespoke suit. He recognized Bond as someone not only better dressed but possibly a social threat.

“You can’t possibly work with my darling in IT, do you? You don’t look the type.” Connor said condescendingly.

“No, no, no.” Q gasped.

“Acquisitions.” Bond said firmly as he held his hand out to Connor.

If the man were going to shake Bond’s hand, he would first have to dislodge it from around Q’s waist. Connor stared at Bond for several seconds, then seemed to act like he was demeaning himself to take Bond’s hand and shake it. Bond noticed how soft Connor’s skin was. And how weak his grip was.

‘”Acquisition? That’s like some kind of salesman, right?” Connor asked.

Q rolled his eyes and sagged. Bond noticed Q’s exasperation even though Connor was oblivious.

“Not exactly,” Bond said.

“But close enough. Sounds terribly boring if you ask me. I’m in banking. Money markets and mutual funds,” Connor said.

“Sounds dubious if you ask me.” Bond replied. A hint of smile on his face.

Connor narrowed his eyes at Bond. He leaned forward and tried to push himself into Bond’s space. An act of aggression. Connor expected Bond to back up, but the agent didn’t move. Bond held Connor’s gaze and returned it just as coldly. It was two alphas fighting for dominance.

Connor was about to say something when Q interrupted him.

“Our table is ready. We don’t want to be late.” Q turned to Bond. ‘”We have tickets to the latest production over at the Old Vic.”

Connor shifted his stance and moved back. “Yes, I have box seats. Very difficult to get.”

“How very special for you.” Bond said.

Connor ignored the jab and turned to Q. “Time to go, sweetheart. We’ve wasted enough time chit-chatting with your co-worker.”

Q glanced at Bond once more before turning to leave. Connor placed his hand firmly at the small of Q’s back as they left. Refusing to look over his shoulder at Bond.

Bond wanted to rip the man’s hand off. He wanted to punch him in the smug mouth and yank Q away from him. Instead he marched out of the restaurant and went home. He fell asleep on his couch. A bottle of scotch, empty on the floor, beside him.

_This dream seemed more vivid than others. Bond was walking through the marble halls of an ancient building. There were columns, and heavy drapes. And soldiers. Roman soldiers. Bond realized he was too, dressed as a Roman soldier. The stiff leather armor over the red wool tunic. A heavy sword hung at his waist and he carried a metal helmet with red plumage. His leather boots, with their nailed soles, tapped across the stone floor._

_He was escorted into a vast hall. Several guards proceeded him. There were trumpets and cheers as he approached a dais at the opposite end of the hall. The soldier turned and backed away when they reached the dais. Upon the raised platform was an ornate chair, like a throne, and her – M – his M. Olivia Mansfield._

_Although she was slight in height, she appeared like a giant on the dais. A gold crown circled her white hair. Her bright blue eyes were just as intense and quick as he remembered them. She scowled down at him as he approached._

_He took a knee before her._

_‘Legionnaire, you were successful?’ M asked._

_‘Yes, my queen.’ Bond said as he stood._

_‘Then I am pleased with you.’_

_‘Thank you.’_

_‘You will be rewarded for service to your country and to your queen.’ M said. Then she waved her hand and the other soldiers stepped back._

_A man was brought in, in chains. He was younger than Bond. Dressed in an oatmeal colored tunic and leather sandals. His dark hair was curly and his skin pale. His hazel green eyes were wild with fright. Bond looked at him and recognized him as Q._

_‘He is your prize. Do with him as you see fit, but remember he is a valuable prisoner. His father is the tribal ruler of the Britons. He is not a blunt object.’_

_The dream shifted and Bond and Q were alone. The chains still encircled Q’s neck and attached to shackles around his wrists._

_Bond stepped forward and for a moment Q was frightened. He moved back, raising his hands to protect himself from the roman._

_‘Kneel.’ Bond commanded._

_Q hesitated then seemed to find his strength. He pulled his shoulders back and pushed his chin out._

_‘No.’ Q glared at him._

_‘Kneel, slave, so I can remove your chains.’_

_‘I am not your slave. I am Arthur.’_

_‘You are a barbarian.’ Bond said as he grabbed Q’s wrist and pushed him to the floor. ‘And mine to do with as I see fit.’_

_Q knelt and Bond removed the chains around the younger man’s neck. They clattered to the floor and left red bruises on Q’s pale skin. Bond let his finger smooth over the bruise only to be rewarded by a subtle shiver of Q’s body._

_Bond was instantly attracted to the young slave. He wanted to run his fingers through the boy’s hair and listen to him moan as Bond kissed him._

_‘Arturo, you are a beautiful man.’ Bond said._

_‘Arthur. My name is Arthur. I was born in Britannia. I am the son of a king. If you know what is good for you, you will not lay a finger on me.’_

_Bond laughed softly._

_‘I do not care. You are mine and if I want to push you to your knees and bugger you while you scream for mercy, I will. The queen gave you to me. And I will take what is mine.’_

_Bond pulled Q to his feet and wrapped his arms around the younger man’s body. He pulled Q close and tried to kiss him._

_‘No!’ Q twisted and tried to pull away._

_The two men wrestled for a moment then Bond pressed Q up against the wall. Bond grabbed both of Q’s wrists and pinned them to the wall above his head. Then he pressed his chest against Q’s, trapping the younger man._

_‘You are mine.’ Bond growled. ‘No one is to touch you but me. No one is to know you but me.’_

_Q’s eyes flashed with anger. His breath rushed out of his body. Then he seemed to relax slightly in Bond’s grasp. His focus changed as he smiled._

_‘You are not worthy enough for me.’ Q said._

_‘What?’_

_‘I am the prince and you are the mere soldier. Do you think you are worthy of a son of Britannia?’_

_Bond looked confused._

_‘You should be mine, Roman. You should be on your knees before me, doing my bidding.’ Q said quietly._

_‘Is that what you think?’_

_‘That is what I want.’_

_Suddenly, Q had the strength to knock Bond to the ground. Q quickly leapt upon Bond and straddled his him. He grabbed Bond’s wrists and pressed to the to the marble floor beside Bond’s head. A spike of desire rushed through Bond’s body. The image of Q over him. Sitting on his lap. Captured by the younger man. Listening to the young man demand seemed to fuel that lust._

_Q leaned down over Bond and kissed him. Surprised, Bond kissed back._

_‘But I am your captor . . .’_

_‘Is that what you think?’ Q asked._

_‘I am to protect you. My queen ordered me.’_

_‘I am a son of Britannia and I have decided you are worthy of me. I decide who will protect me and fight for me. Who is worthy of my body.’ Q stretched forward again to kiss Bond. ‘In the end, no one will know you but me.’_

When Bond woke the next morning, he felt awful. His back hurt from sleeping on the couch. His head hurt from too much alcohol on an empty stomach. He took an extra-long shower and tried to not think about the dream he had the night before but failed.

He leaned into the folded arms, pressed against the tile wall as he tried to push away the idea of Q being his. But the idea of Q being under his hand and under his control was too enticing. It slipped between the cracks in his mind and the sound of Q’s voice came to him unbidden. How would Q sound as Bond slowly took him apart? Would Q beg or demand? Would he be passive or aggressive? How would it feel to have Q ride him? Would Q scrap his fingernails down Bond’s chest as he took his pleasure form James’ body?

Then the idea of being under Q’s control came to him. Of granting the other man the power and submitting to Q’s wishes became intoxicating. It made Bond light-headed. He leaned into the tile wall as his hand moved down his chest.

The water was warm and felt like ‘dream’ Q’s kisses. Bond let himself image Q was there with him in the shower. Q was kissing him and touching him. The sensation of those clever fingers stroking him. The young man was whispering in his ear. Bond closed his eyes and listened.

_‘You should be mine. On your knees and doing my bidding. No one will have you but me. No one will touch you but me.’_

Bond groaned as he came. He sagged and slid down the wall of his shower and sat on the floor. He closed his eyes as he allowed himself the indulgence of few moments of belonging to his Quartermaster.

Later, he went into work. It wasn’t his conscious intention, but he ended up in Q Branch just after lunch. Q was working in his office. Bond knocked on the door and waited to be invited in.

“Oh, Bond . . .” Q looked slightly embarrassed. “I’m, ah, sorry about last night.”

“Please don’t. It wasn’t your fault.” Bond waved Q’s apology away.

He went and sat down in the chair in front of Q’s desk.

“Did you enjoy the play?”

Q shrugged, “Yes and no.”

“Oh?”

“Well, the play was good but I won’t be seeing Connor again.”

“I hope it wasn’t because of . . .” Bond trailed off.

“No, actually not at all. It was our third date and he had expectations.”

“Third date expectation?” Bond asked. The idea made the muscles tense in Bond’s forearm and his hand twitched into a fist.

“Yes, and he was disappointed. I was not interested.”

It suddenly became easier for Bond to breath. The iron belt that had been around his chest seemed to melt away.

“I see. I can’t really blame you.” Bond said trying to sound nonchalant.

“It’s fine. He didn’t meet my expectation.” Q smiled then asked. “So how was your date?”

Bond suddenly realized he had walked out on his date after the confrontation with Connor and Q. He should have felt guilty, but he didn’t.

“I – I’m afraid she was disappointed too. I doubt there will be a second date.” Bond gave a weak smile.

Q huffed out a laugh. “I guess we should just admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“We should just stick together and forget about dating other people.”

Bond suddenly felt very comfortable sitting in Q’s office. 


	6. Chapter Six

~Q~

Bond found himself at loose ends. There was nothing on the threat board needing the attention of a Double ‘O’ and he had already gone through a case of ammo at the firing range. His visits to Q Branch had become frequent and it made him feel a little predictable. A situation he didn’t want to be in. So to counteract that impression, he found himself wandering around the executive offices.

He strolled into Mallory’s outer office without being summoned. Something he thought he would never do.

“I’ve heard a rumor about you.” Eve Moneypenny smiled at the man as she closed the drawer on a filing cabinet.

“Couldn’t possibly be true.” Bond returned her smile with his broad confidence.

“I’ve heard you’ve become celibate. Given up on your ‘one-night stands’ and taking vows of a monk.” She returned to her desk and sat down.

“Absolutely false.” Bond said wondering how anyone would believe that of him.

“Haven’t had a date in three weeks.” She continued.

He pause. _‘Had it been three weeks?’_ He hadn’t sought out company since he abandoned his date at the Cuban restaurant. He honestly hadn’t been interested in finding a companion for the evening since then.

“You know I only have eyes for you.” Bond said, trying to cover up his train of thought.

“I think Albert might have something to say about that.”

“Albert?”

“My boyfriend.” Eve narrowed her eyes at Bond. “You met him at the Christmas party last year.”

The image of a tall, dark skinned man came to Bond. Physician of some kind, he remembered.

“Oh, how you crush my hopes and dreams, Moneypenny.” Bond pinned over dramatically.

“Ha!” Eve laughed. “Well, you can take Q and me out to lunch today to make up for it.”

“Q? Does the little boffin actually eat? I thought he survived on tea and biscuits. Jaffa Cakes if I’m not mistaken.” Bond teased.

“Actually, I prefer Jammie Dodgers or good Scottish Shortbread.” Q had snuck into the room behind the other two.

Bond turned to stare at the younger man. Eve smiled and opened a lower drawer of her desk. 

“James is taking us to lunch. He is dying to hear all the office gossip.” Eve said as removed her handbag from the drawer and opened it. She removed a small compact and checked her face in the mirror. “You can tell him who has a crush on him.”

Bond noticed a hint of a blush come to Q’s face.

“Oh . . . I can’t.” Q stumbled the words out.

“Can’t or won’t?” Bond asked wondering which new secretary had become infatuated with the legend of ‘James Bond’.

“Ah,” Q’s blush deepened. “I will have to beg out of lunch. I’m meeting with representatives from Raytheon and BAE.” Q’s eyes flittered back and forth between Bond’s and Eve’s.

Bond instantly recognized the name of the two of the leading defense contractors in Great Britain.

“Business lunch? New tech?” Bond asked.

“No, job offer.”

“Q? Are you going to be leaving us?” Eve teased.

“It’s just lunch. They are taking me to Tamarind.”

“A three-star Michelin restaurant. Very nice.” Bond said coolly. In the back of Bond’s mind he thought - _Q was being courted by defense companies. They were going to try and convince the Quartermaster to leave._

“Well, that beats chips from Gourmet Burger Kitchen.” Eve offered. “Come by later and tell me what they offered.”

Q seemed to relax slightly and smiled. “Of course.” Then he glanced at Bond. “Thanks for the offer of lunch.”

Bond just stared back at the younger man. Q hesitated then turned to leave. Bond immediately turned back on Eve.

“Does Tanner know that Q is being head-hunted?”

“Tanner? Probably.” Eve said as she turned to make sure her computer was turned off.

“And he is alright with it? What about Mallory? He can’t be complacent about this.”

“James, it’s nothing. Don’t worry.”

“Don’t worry? Our Quartermaster is being stolen away from us and you think we shouldn’t worry!?”

Bond marched out of the office and out of MI6.

_The dream started as so many others. Bond was walking down a darken hall, his gun in his hand. The hallway was familiar although he had never seen it like this. Smoke from grenades blurred his vision. The yellow pulsating light washed everything into sepia. The air was acrid and burned Bond’s lungs. He held his gun out in front of him. Both of his hands cradled it as his eyes swept left and right over the destruction. Sweat broke out over his bow when he came across the first bodies._

_‘Q, where are you?’ He spoke into his coms._

_‘R and D. Hurry.’ The quartermaster’s croaky voice whispered in Bond’s ear._

_‘How many are there?’_

_‘I saw three before they tossed the grenades.’_

_Q Branch had been breached. Members of TSS were dead from a terrorist attack within MI6._

_‘Status?’ Bond asked Q._

_‘My leg is broken and I think I dislocated my shoulder when I went diving over the counter in here.’_

_‘Are you safe?’ Bond asked as he continued deeper into the wreckage of the department._

_‘I – I don’t know. I pulled myself into a corner away from the door. But I can’t tell. My glasses are broken.’_

_‘On my way.’ Bond said as he turned the corner and moved deeper into the building._

_Alarms were screeching in the background. There was the groan of the building as the chunks of concrete crashed to the floor. Bond hoped nothing supportive had been irreparably damaged. He didn’t wish to be entombed with his Quartermaster in the rubble of MI6._

_‘Hurry, Bond. I’m not alone.’ Q’s whispers were sharper and more distinct._

_‘Targets?’_

_‘Two. They’ve almost found me.’_

_Bond picked up his speed. He rushed down the hall and into gathering smoke._

_‘On my way.’_

_His words were answered by the sound of two gun shots. Loud and painful. He realized he heard it both in front of him and also in his ear._

_‘Q?!’_

_‘Bond . . .’ Q’s voice was raspy._

_Bond rushed through the door leading into R and D. He saw two human shaped shadows. Dark with no definable appearance. Shadows. Phantoms. He aimed and fired. The specters disappeared into the gloom. Vanished before him._

_‘Q!? Where are you?’_

_‘Here.’ The Quartermaster’s voice came from near where Bond had seen the shadows._

_He stepped around a counter and saw a brown suede oxford protruding from dark brown corduroy trousers. Bond moved closer and looked down at the fallen man. His gun still in his hands, Bond pointed at his Quartermaster. Q’s left leg twisted awkwardly below the knee. His shoulder dipped lower than normal. A bloom of scarlet spreaded across his chest._

_‘Q!’ Bond holstered his gun and tapped his earpiece. ‘Tanner! We need an evac team down here now. Someone with medical training!’_

_Bond knelt beside Q and placed his hand over the seeping holes in Q’s chest._

_‘Bond, where have you been?’_

_‘Looking for you.’_

_Q looked up into Bond’s eyes. Bond had never seen the man look so young and frightened before._

_‘I’m afraid.’ Q whispered._

_‘Nothing to be afraid of now. I’ve killed them.’_

_‘I don’t . . .’ Q coughed and slumped. ‘I don’t want to leave.’_

_Bond pulled the young man closer. ‘You’re not going to leave. You’re going to stay here.’_

_Anger and frustration combined with fear in Bond’s gut._

_‘I don’t want to leave you, James.’ Q said looking up into Bond’s face._

_Bond looked down and saw the shimmer of tears in Q’s eyes. The soft path of tears down Q’s dirt smudged face._

_‘Q?’_

_‘I need’ Q paused and licked his dry lips. ‘I need to know if – why you didn’t want me.’_

_‘Q?’ Bond couldn’t answer him. ‘Q what are you talking about. You’re going to be fine. Tanner is on the way.’_

_‘Why did you never ask?’_

_Q’s eyes closed as his body sagged in Bond’s arms._

_‘Q?!’_

_No response._

_‘Q?!’_

_Silence._

~Q~

Q was woken by the sound of pounding on his front door. He stumbled out of bed and looked at the clock. Three in the morning. Fear took hold as he glanced at the various camera feeds he had surreptitiously mounted around the outside of his flat. The video showed 007 was presently pounding his fist on Q’s front door.

Confused and disoriented, Q unlocked the door and started to open it. Before he could stop Bond, the agent had grabbed the door and pushed it open far enough to enter Q’s flat. Then just as ungraciously, slammed it shut.

“Bond, my neighbors! It’s three in the morning!”

“I don’t care about your neighbors or what time it is.” Bond snapped back.

“What is it? What’s happened? Have we been hacked?” Various scenarios played out in Q’s mind as to why Bond would be so agitated and in his flat at this time of the morning.

“Do you want to leave?” Bond asked.

“What?” Q blinked confused.

“It won’t make you happy. You must refuse the offer.”

Q rubbed his eyes and wondered if he was dreaming. “What?”

“You can’t take the job, Q.”

“What job? What are you talking about?”

“Raytheon. The job offer from Raytheon.”

“You woke me up to talk about the job offers from . . .” Q sounded exasperated.

“You can’t take it.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Q said rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

A wave of relief slipped over Bond. He suddenly realized he probably misread the situation badly.

“Good. You are needed at ‘Six’. We can’t lose good people.”

Suddenly, he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Initially he wanted to reach out and grab the Quartermaster, but now Bond knew it would be foolish and probably unwanted.

“Good people, ha.” Q sagged more as his exhaustion became stronger. “What was the real reason you are here. And don’t say it’s because of the job offer. I get those about every quarter.”

“You do?”

“Yes. They ask me out to lunch. I get a meal at a restaurant I couldn’t possibly afford on my own and my ego stroked. Then I politely tell them no and wait until the next time they come calling. Tanner and Mallory both know about it and find it amusing.”

“I didn’t know.” Bond felt even more awkward. Like wearing tuxedo at a nudist colony. Something he would do but would be out of place too.

“Bond, why would you care?”

“You need to stay. We need you to stay.” Bond hesitated then said firmly. “I need you to stay.”

Q’s mouth fell open. His eyes blinked owlishly at Bond.

“What? Why do you need me?”

“Q, I . . .” Bond stared into Q’s confused face.

He knew it was incredibly stupid. Q could write Bond up and have him reprimanded. It could end his career. But Bond didn’t care any longer. Bond stepped closer as Q took a step back. Bond reached out slowly and grasped Q by both shoulders.

He pulled the younger man closer. Twisting his head so they lined up perfectly. He paused. Their lips only millimeters apart.

“Q, I need you.” Bond whispered. His lips barely brushing against Q’s.

His listened as Q made some whimpering sound deep in his throat. The younger man seemed to melt in his grip and lean into Bond’s body. Closing the slight distance between them.

Q initiated the kiss.

The hesitant press of skin, then a taste, a promise. Q moaned again and wrapped his arms around Bond’s shoulders as he pulled him closer. One of Bond’s hands reached up and dragged through Q’s sleep musted hair. The feel of the silken strands caught in his fist made Bond growl with satisfaction.

They kissed and kissed again. Bond’s tongue licking into Q’s mouth as Q bent his body to conform to Bond’s.

It ended when Bond had pushed Q backwards into the wall and together they had knocked over a small table. Still wrapped in each other’s embrace Q hummed and smiled into Bond’s face.

“Are you going to explain to me what just happened?”

“I thought it was quite obvious what just happened. We kissed.” Bond said as he leaned forward and started to lay a path of kisses down Q’s throat.

“But why?”

“Because we wanted too.”

“Why did you decide to come to my flat at three in the morning to kiss me, Bond? Or should I ask, why, James?”

Bond growled again.

“I like the way my name sounds on your lips.”

Q laughed softly “But why are you here now?”

Suddenly, Q stiffened in Bond’s grip and pushed lightly to get Bond’s attention.

“You didn’t just try to seduce me to convince me to stay at MI6 did you? This is some kind of ‘honeypot’ mission to you?”

Bond stared at Q for a heartbeat. “No. If you take the job with Raytheon, I still want you.”

“Then why? Why now?” Q questioned.

Bond looked as sheepish as he could which wasn’t very much. “I was afraid you would leave and I wouldn’t get an opportunity to let you know that I’ve . . . become . . .”

Bond hesitated.

“Become what? Demanding? Infuriating? Confusing? You’ve always been those things, so what is it?”

“I’ve been dreaming about you.” Bond confessed.

“You’ve been dreaming about me? What kind of dreams?” Q cocked his head to side looking at Bond accusingly.

“Not that kind of dream.” Bond lied convincingly. “I just dream we are talking. Just the two of us. Sometimes, I’m drawing, sometimes you are playing the piano. But just talking. I came to realize that we could be more than just coworkers. We are friends in those dreams and I like it.”

Q watched him carefully as he spoke and couldn’t detect any sign of deceit. “I had thought maybe we were more than just coworkers. And friends don’t wake each other at three in the morning to kiss like that.”

Bond took a step back and pulled himself into a stiff body frame. “If I’ve miss read the . . .”

“You didn’t miss read anything, Bond. I’m just over thinking it again. You have to admit it is a bit strange to be told that someone you’ve been lusting after shows up at your door in the wee hours of the morning and tell you, he’s been dreaming about you. Then gives you toe curling kisses is normal behavior. I mean things like this don’t happen to me. Ever!”

A small indulgent smile came to Bond’s lips. “Lusting after?”

A blush came to Q’s face when he realized he had let too much slip out. “I – maybe.”

Bond stepped forward. “And have you been dreaming about me too?”

“I refuse to answer on the grounds it might incriminate me.”

“That’s an American right, not a British one. And if you refuse to answer the answer is yes.”

Q’s blush deepened as Bond smile grew.

“It could be quite possibly. But maybe we could discuss this when we are both more rested and awake.”

Bond leaned forward and kissed Q one more time.

“Alright, I’ll leave and let you sleep but I’m taking to lunch tomorrow.”

“You mean today.” Q said.

Bond smiled. “Yes, today. Any three-star restaurant you want. And then we will compare dreams.”

Q smiled and pecked a kiss on the corner of Bond’s mouth.

“Oh, by the way, what is your name. I can’t keep calling you Q.”

“I don’t see why not. By my name is Drake. Arthur Drake.” Q said as he yawned.

“Arthur?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments welcome


End file.
